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And had I pow'r to give that knowledge birth,
In all the speeches of the babbling earth:
Did Shadrach’s zeal my glowing breast inspire;
To weary tortures, and rejoice in fire ;
Or had I faith like that which Israel faw,
When Moses gave them miracles, and law ::
Yet, gracious Charity, indulgent guest,
Were not thy pow'r exerted in my

breast;
Those speeches would send up unheeded pray'i ::
That scorn of life would be but wild despair :
A tymbal's found were better than my voice :
My faith were form : my eloquence were noise.

Charity, decent, modest, easy, kind, Softens the high, and rears the abject mind; Knows wit's just reins, and gentle hand' to guide,. Betwixt vile shame, and arbitrary pride. Not foon provok'd, the easily forgives; And much fhe suffers, as fhe much believes. Soft peace she brings where-ever the arrives : She builds our quiet, as she forms our lives : Lays the rough paths of peevith nature ev'n : And opens in each heart a little Heav'n.

Each other gift, which God on man bestows, Its proper bounds, and due restriction knows; To one fix'd purpose dedicates its pow'r ;. And finishing its act, exists no more. Thus, in obedience to what Heav'n decrees, Knowledge shall fail, and prophecy shall cease : But lafting Charity's more ample sway, Nor bound by time, nor subject to decay, In happy triumph shall for ever live, And endless good. diffuse, and endless praise receive.

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As thro' the artist's interveening glass,
Our eye observes the distant planets pass;
A little we discover ; but allow,
That more remains unseen, than art can show :
So whilst our mind its knowledge would improve
(Its feeble eye intent on things above)
High as we may, we lift our reason up,
By Faith directed, and confirm’d by Hope:
Yet are we able only to survey
Dawnings of beams, and promises of day.
Heav'n's fuller effluence mocks our dazzled lights
Too great its swiftness, and too strong its light.

But soon the mediate clouds shall be dispelld:
The sun shall foon be face to face beheld,
In all his robes, with all his glory on,
Seated sublime on his meridian throne.

Then constant Faith, and holy Hope shall die,
One lost in certainty, and one in joy :
Whilst thou, more happy, pow'r, fair Gharity,
Triumphant fifter, greatest of the three,
Thy office, and thy nature still the same,
Lasting thy lamp, and unconsum'd thy flame,
Shalt still survive
Shalt stand before the host of Heav'n confest,
For ever blefling, and for ever bleft.

Engraven on a COLUMN in the Church of HALSTEAD

in Essex. The Spire of which, burnt down by lightning, was rebuilt at the expence of Mr. SAMUEL FISKE, 1717.

IEW not this spire by measure giv'n

To buildings rais'd by common hands :
That fabric rises high as heav'n,

Whose basis on devotion stands..

While yet we draw this vital breath,

We can our Faith and Hope declare :
But Charity beyond our death

Will ever in our works appear.

Bleft be he call'd among good men,

Who to his God this column rais'd:
Though lightning strike the dome again ;

The man, who built it, shall be prais?d.

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Yet spires and towers in duft fhall lie,

The weak efforts of human pains ;
And Faith, and Hope themselves shall die

While deathless Charity remains.

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Written in MONTAIGNE'S Efays, given to the Duke of

SHREW SBURY in FRANCE, after the Peace 17.13.

ICTATE, O mighty judge, what thou hast seen

Of cities, and of courts, of books and men ; And deign to let thy servant hold the pen.

D

Through ages thus I may presume to live ;
And from the transcript of thy profe receive,
What my own short-livd verfe can never give.

Thus shall fair Britain with a gracious smile
Accept the work, and the instructed ifle,
For more than treaties made, shall bless my toit:

Nor longer hence the Gallic style preferr'd, Wisdom in English Idiom shall be heard ; While Talbot tells the world, where Montaigne err'd.

AN EPISTLE,

Defiring the Queen's Picture. Written at Paris,

1714, but left unfinished, by the sudden news of her MAJESTY's Death.

TH

THE train of equipage and pomp of state,

The shining lide-board, and the burnish'd plate.
Let other ministers, great Anne, require ;
And partial fall thy gift to their desire.
To the fair portrait of my sov'reign dame,
To that alone, eternal be my claim.

My bright defender, and my dread delights
If ever I found favour in thy light ;
If all the pains that for thy Britain's fake
My past has took, or future life may take,
Be grateful to my Queen : perinit my pray'r,
And with this gift reward my total care,
Will thy indulgent hand, fair faint, allow
The boon? and will thy ear accept the vow?

That in despite of age, of impious flame,
And eating time, thy picture like thy fame
Entire may last ; that as their eyes survey
The semblant shade, men yet unborn may fay,
Thus great, thus gracious look'd Britannia's Queen ;
Her brow thus smooth, her look was thus serene ;
When to a low, but to a loyal hand
The mighty empress gave her high command,
That he to hostile camps, and kings should hafte,
To speak her vengeance, as their danger, paft;
To say, she wills detested wars to ceale ;
She checks her conquest, for her subject's ease ;.
And bids the world attend her terms of peace.

Thee, gracious Anne, thee present I adore,
Thee, Queen of Peace-If time and fate have power
Higher to raise the glories of thy reign ;
In words sublimer, and a nobler strain,
May future bards the mighty theme rehearse,
Here, Stator Jove, and Phoebus king of verse,
The votive tablet I suspend **

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